


A Man in Wolves' Clothing

by luna_plath



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Aurors, Casual Sex, F/M, Fic Exchange, Getting Back Together, Holiday Fic Exchange, One Shot, Romance, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:59:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2091579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_plath/pseuds/luna_plath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry becomes a partial werewolf after an attack during an Auror mission. His condition leads him to reconnect with an old flame.  Written for lightofdaye at smutty_claus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man in Wolves' Clothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lightofdaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightofdaye/gifts).



> A thank you to the mods for being so supportive with deadlines and arrangements for this submission. I’m really grateful to you guys for being such a big help, and to sherylyn, my awesome beta! I hope my recipient enjoys this, because I definitely enjoyed writing it.

Harry could feel it whenever a big storm was coming.

A year ago he’d been scratched diagonally across the chest by a werewolf, and ever since then the scars that began at his shoulder and ended at his navel would ache at the change in temperature. Even without the weather report in the Prophet, he could still tell that the snowstorm everyone had been talking about would arrive by the weekend, with the old wound feeling tighter by the hour. Not only that, but Harry had begun to feel achy in his muscles, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his lack of sleep.

The attack by the werewolf had been more invasive than the injuries Bill Weasley or Lavender Brown had received, though initially Harry didn’t understand the ramifications of his wounds. He’d been injured on an international mission for the Aurors, hunting down English werewolves that had immigrated to the States after the second war, and the American Healers hadn’t been very informative. It was only once he got back to England that Harry realized the full extent of his condition.

Padma Patil was the lycanthropy specialist at St. Mungo’s and, after sharing a report of the attack with the head of the Auror Office, Harry had been urged to give Padma a visit, just as a precaution.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” she’d told him, one dark eyebrow raised, as if she doubted his survival. “But there is a complication. You see, that’s not a normal scratch, even from a werewolf,” Padma said, tracing the slowly healing claw marks with her wand. “Blood and saliva from the wolf found their way into the wound. You are contaminated.”

“Contaminated?” Harry asked, a cool, prickling sensation traveling down his spine. The examination room they were in was warm enough, but he suddenly felt cold, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his skin. “Am I a werewolf now?”

“No. But you will be able to transform. Your transformations will be voluntary, which means you will have to force yourself to endure the pain that comes with it. It will be dangerous for you to go around other werewolves. They will be able to tell that you are not like them.”

Padma was clinical in her explanation, but Harry could tell that she was curious about his condition. She traced her wand over his body to perform a few more diagnostic tests that he wasn’t familiar with, filling the air with displays of light that Padma alone seemed to understand. He had never learned the full details of what it had been like for Remus around other werewolves, and none of the other werewolf attack victims that Harry knew could transform. In essence, he knew no one who could tell him what his experience was going to be like.

As Harry was re-dressing in the examination room, he thought of one last question.

“Padma, once I transform, will I still be able to think like a wizard?”

She looked at him very keenly, her dark eyes churning with thought. “That is something you will have to tell me, Harry Potter.”

\----

On Wednesday, he made it into the Auror Office just as his shift was supposed to start, feeling sluggish despite two cups of coffee. Harry nodded to Ron as he dropped his things at his desk and flipped through the departmental memos that had stacked themselves one on top of the other in his absence. He had a meeting with Gawain Robards, the head of their office, in a few minutes’ time. Harry could see his boss having a chat with another wizard from the larger Department of Magical Law Enforcement, giving him a chance to dig around in his desk drawer for a vial of Invigoration Draught, which he downed in a few long gulps.

Once Robards was no longer occupied, he signaled for Harry to come into his office, closing the door and blocking out the sound of his colleagues already at work. Auror Robards was getting on in age and less fit than some of the other Aurors of his generation, but Harry liked him, appreciating the older man’s toughness and levelheaded attitude.

“Morning, Potter,” he said, leaning on the back two legs of his wooden chair. “You’re not hung over, are you? You look horrible.”

“I wish,” Harry said, blinking a few times to clear his eyes. “The full moon’s in two days.”

“Ah. I know you’re not a full werewolf, but how similar are the effects before the full moon?” Robards asked, fixing his sharp blue eyes on Harry.

“Basically the same. Normally, I feel fine if I drink Wolfsbane a few days in advance, but then I can’t transform at all,” Harry explained, remembering the disguised trips he’d made in the past year to the Wolfsbane Dispensary in Knockturn Alley.

“And you’ll need to this time,” Robards said grimly. “How much interaction have you had with other werewolves while they’re transformed?”

“Enough,” Harry replied. “I was really curious about it after I was first attacked, but the sickness before the full moon and the lack of sleep interfered with work, so I haven’t spent much time around other wolves recently.”

Robards’ hands were knotted together on his desk, worn and scarred after years in the Aurors, with a missing index finger on his left hand. Harry knew that the assignment he’d been given was more to gather intelligence than anything else, but all things considered, it was still an unusual operation for their department.

“You’ll be staying with a researcher who’s living on the reserve,” Robards explained, unfolding a map of the territory that the Ministry had delegated to the Werewolf Rights lobby. The reserve was in the Scottish highlands, with a sizeable forest and a small village where some werewolves had settled. “She’s your fixer, she’ll be able to tell you the most about which werewolves use the reserve and what their behavior’s like.”

Harry studied the map on Robards’ desk, using the scale in the corner of the parchment to determine how much ground he would have to cover.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

Robards dug up a piece of parchment that had been folded underneath a stack of paperwork for other cases. “Chang? Yes, that’s right, Cho Chang, member of the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Werewolf Support Services, though I think she’s more of an academic than an activist. Not like your friend Granger.”

Harry shifted in his seat, wondering just how many Cho Changs there were in magical England. He only knew one.

“I should probably check in with her before getting started then,” he said.

“That would be best,” Robards agreed. “Spend as much time as you can on the ground, but stay on for a few days after the full moon and see if you can’t get any more information. As I understand it, the pack members are permitted to settle there permanently, but not all of them do. Chang will be able to tell you which ones are permanent residents and which ones are more transient.”

“Alright,” Harry said, charming himself a copy of Robards’ map and stashing it in his pocket. “I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.”

\----

Early on Thursday morning, after hurriedly packing for the next several days and having a quick shower, Harry Apparated to the outer fields surrounding Conorwood, the Werewolf Reserve. He’d been given clearance to enter through the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures since, not being a full werewolf, he would not have been able to enter the facility otherwise.

The fields outside of the dense tree line had been left fallow, and the waist-high grass had begun to die, breaking as Harry parted his way through the brush. Even with his charmed cloak, the air was brisk, and the clouds had already begun to take on a thick, smoky consistency that suggested snowfall. As he approached the edge of the forest, Harry felt a prickle of anxiety along the back of his neck, knowing that he was entering territory that belonged to other werewolves.

Tomorrow evening was the start of the full moon, meaning that tonight he would stay with Cho at the little cottage on the reserve that was used as a research facility. He hadn’t seen Cho in years, not since running into her at Neville and Hannah’s wedding. That was the first time that Harry had seen her without a wedding ring in recent memory. Cho had married Michael Corner only a few years out of Hogwarts, though they had later divorced. Harry had never heard the reason for their separation but he wasn’t fit to judge; his relationships had been even more volatile since his school days, a fact that the gossip columns of the _Prophet_ loved to write about.

Very few women were willing to put up with the demands that came with his career, with the constant danger and the unpredictable schedule, not to mention, that Harry often found it difficult to simply forget about his job once he left work and went home. The things he’d been exposed to as a trainee and a full member of the Aurors were just as hard to deal with as what he’d seen fighting Voldemort. Harry’s past experience did little to ease the difficulty of his work; it would always be hard to see the effects of Dark magic on a human scale.

A narrow path cut through the undergrowth of the forest. As Harry followed it, map in his pocket, he noticed the number of low-hanging branches in his way, suggesting that it was a hunting path for when the werewolves were transformed. He had to duck and go forwards in a near crouch at a few places, but the map he’d copied from Robards suggested this was the quickest way to enter the reserve without attracting overmuch attention.

Harry had decided that he would try not to meet any of the other werewolves until the full moon, figuring that news of a stranger could affect the wolves after transformation, making it harder for him to get an accurate idea of who was using Conorwood and for what purpose. Robards didn’t like the idea, going on the assumption that the other werewolves would be more comfortable with Harry’s presence if they had a chance to get used to him. Harry disagreed. When they were transformed, even werewolves who’d taken Wolfsbane were more likely to judge someone on their physical characteristics. As long as he stood his ground without coming across as aggressive, the other werewolves wouldn’t take issue. Once in their human forms, however, Harry was on less solid ground with the residents of the reserve, especially if anyone suspected he was a member of the Ministry.

More than any other magical demographic, the werewolf community had been rife with supporters for Voldemort. Advocates like Hermione had been trying to change their reputation within the magical community, but prejudice was a difficult thing to eliminate, even when the Minister himself supported greater outreach. It had been a struggle to establish facilities like Conorwood and the future of similar projects hinged on the success of this one. Harry knew that the intelligence he gathered from the reserve could potentially displace the very people who lived there. That idea created a tense feeling in his shoulders, like he’d just come home from a training session at the Auror Office.

The cottage where he would meet with Cho was separate from the rest of the village. After crouching through the woods for several miles, Harry noticed a few leaves and brittle twigs in his hair, not to mention the mud caked on the soles of his boots. He did a quick Scourgify on his shoes and brushed the debris out of his hair, feeling like he was in fifth year again and about to go on his first date.

_At least then I had a better idea of what I was getting into_ , Harry thought, unsure what Cho would be able to tell him about the reserve. He had wondered how it would feel to see her again and get a chance to talk, an opportunity he hadn’t expected to have, but thinking about their teenaged relationship didn’t leave him with many topics for conversation. It had been so long ago and they had barely got to know each other.

Feeling silly, Harry tried not to think about the leaves possibly stuck to his robes, reminding himself that he was an adult, an Auror, not a fifteen-year-old boy.

He walked up the garden path to the stone cottage. The trees outside the property were all bare for the winter, but he figured it was probably beautiful in the spring. Harry knocked on the door and waited to be let inside. The sign by the path was made from planks of weathered wood, reading _Lycanthropy Research Centre and Wolfsbane Dispensary._

The door opened and there was Cho in a blue sweater and jeans, with her shiny dark hair pulled into a ponytail.

“Harry?” she asked. “Are you the Auror the Ministry sent?”

“That’d be me,” he said, still on the doorstep. Had they told her that he was a partial werewolf? Harry could only wonder as Cho invited him inside, still visibly surprised that it was Harry Potter who had been sent to help her.

“Have a seat, I was just making tea,” Cho said. They entered a small kitchen towards the back of the downstairs, just off the main hallway and past what had looked like a shabby waiting room, an office, and a workroom that, at first glance, looked like it was used for brewing potions.

The facility looked like it had been a home at one point, but there were few personal touches that Harry could see. As he was pulling off his gloves, Cho charmed two teacups to land on the table while the teapot poured itself.

“Thank you,” Harry said, grateful for the warm cup. It was colder outside than he’d realized, if his stiff fingers were any indication.

“When the department said there would be an Auror coming for a few days, I didn’t realize they meant you,” she explained, taking a seat across from him at the small pine table. “I didn’t think the reserve would get so much attention.”

“You figured someone else was the half-werewolf they were talking about?” Harry asked, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards.

“On second thought, I’m not surprised. You always liked trouble,” Cho said, teasing him.

“I was scratched by a werewolf while I was on an assignment. It lead to a partial infection. Once Auror Robards found out that I could transform, he wanted to involve me in a mission here,” Harry explained.

“What do the Aurors want to know about the reserve?” she asked.

Harry thought he heard a touch of protectiveness in her voice, even though she’d framed her question in polite terms.

“Werewolves have been exploited in the past,” Harry said plainly. “The Ministry has been the one to exploit them, in some cases. There are plenty of illegal potions that require werewolf parts—hair, blood, teeth—there’s a market for that. If there are werewolves on the reserve who are selling to the illegal collectors, then that means this,” Harry made a gesture with his hand, indicating everything around them, “isn’t working. No one is trying to arrest people in the werewolf community. But if a minority group is facilitating Dark magic then it becomes a problem. Especially when you consider the types of magic people do with werewolf materials.”

“I understand,” Cho said, her cup of tea forgotten. Her dark eyes were focused away from him, as if she were thinking. Harry knew he was being scrutinized and hoped that his reasons for becoming involved with the reserve sounded more substantial to Cho than they did to him. He swallowed.

“Tell me what I can do to help?” she asked.

\----

The cottage was larger on the inside than Harry would have guessed from the exterior, and the room Cho showed him for the evening had a vacant look to it, like it wasn’t used very often. He threw his coat on the straight-backed chair next to the empty fireplace, placed his bag on the mattress of the narrow double bed, and dug through the bag’s contents until he found the papers with his notes on the reserve.

Harry peeked out the curtained window, pushing the sheer drapes aside. The nearly full circle of the moon wasn’t visible through the thick clouds, but he was feeling increasingly worse as the hours dragged on. After tea and some basic plans about what to work on tomorrow, Cho had offered to turn in early.

“Do I look that bad?” he’d asked, grinning despite a headache.

Cho laughed and pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “I’ve seen how hard the transformations can be, even with Wolfsbane. You must be feeling terrible,” she said sympathetically.

“I’m sure it’s worse for full werewolves,” Harry said, trying to hide just how miserable he really felt.

He truly didn’t know if his symptoms were any worse or better than what full werewolves experienced, and because his condition was less common, there were fewer cases to compare himself to. In truth, he’d been grateful when Cho had shown him to his sparse room. All Harry wanted to do was go to sleep before the painful transformation he’d endure tomorrow.

\----

The first signs of snow appeared early the next morning, small white flakes that swirled past his window and piled on the ledge. Harry felt sore in all his joints, with pains arching through his muscles. It was easy to feel the pull of the transformation begin in his spine and gradually make its way up his neck.

Cho was in the small kitchen working on breakfast, dressed for the day but still looking sleepy, her hair falling out of its braid. Harry joined her at the stove where she had charmed a pot of porridge to stir itself.

“Do you need any help?”

She levitated the teapot with a charm, directing it towards the table where it was joined by two cups and a container of milk.

“I think that’s everything,” she said, surveying the stove and the counters.

Her hair was longer than Harry remembered it being at school, but with it held back he was reminded of the way her shiny ponytail had looked when they’d played Quidditch against each other. He was tempted to reach out and tuck one of the loose strands behind her ear before reminding himself that two work colleagues didn’t normally touch each other, or eat breakfast together, for that matter.

_This is just like any other assignment_ , he thought, but Harry knew better. Knowing that they were both sleeping in the same tiny cottage, only a few doors apart from one another, had made him wonder all kinds of things that never would have occurred to him on a normal assignment with a partner. Harry hadn’t spent much of his adult life thinking about Cho Chang, but seeing her again had given seed to innumerable questions. Why had she left Michael after only being married for a few years? Did she live alone on the reserve all the time? How much contact did she have with the other werewolves, apart from dispensing Wolfsbane?

“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble,” Harry said, taking a seat.

“I don’t mind, Harry. You look like you need some food anyway,” Cho said, flicking her wand at the bowl of porridge. It began to serve them both, putting his best household charms to shame.

They ate in silence, looking out the window and watching the snow steadily fall.

\----

“This would be a good place to transform,” Cho said, bundled up in a pea coat while they stood on the back steps of the cottage.

The back door was open, allowing a few windswept flakes of snow to float inside the tiny changing room. There was just enough space for a cloak rack and a few pairs of Wellington boots, but Cho had made room for his change of clothes. Harry had already stripped down to just his jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, having already removed his socks, shoes, and jumper.

He could tell that the transformation would happen soon. His skin was several degrees warmer than normal; the sharp, freezing air barely touched him.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, her shoulders hunched, hands in her pockets.

Harry shook his head. “Not at all, see?”

He took her hand and brought it against his neck. Ordinarily, Cho’s hands would have felt icy against his skin, but he was so close to his transformation that they felt wonderfully cool.

“Merlin,” she said, bringing her other hand against his jaw.

Harry knew that she was just trying to get warm, but with her so close, it was impossible not to notice the competing scents coming off her. He could smell her skin, her hair, the perfume she wore and the soap she used in her laundry. Did she understand that, this close to the full moon, with the sun almost set, he could smell everything about her? Even the sweet, unmistakably female scent between her legs?

A shiver rolled through his shoulders and swept through the rest of his body, stilling his movements. Harry clumsily reached up and removed his glasses. He handed them to Cho along with his wand, barely letting go of them before tugging his shirt over his head and walking into the snow-covered grass. Another shiver swept over his back, stronger this time, pulling at his muscles, re-shaping them. Harry fumbled with his belt and the button of his jeans, undoing them as quickly as possible and yanking them past his hips.

Was Cho still watching? Had she seen many werewolves transform before? Would his transformation scare her, or worse, repulse her?

Naked, he took a few more steps before the tremors became impossible to endure while standing. Harry felt himself crouch down in the snow, his entire body stretching and arching and re-arranging itself. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands until they weren’t hands anymore, but paws. The snow continued to fall and the wind raked over him, but instead of slicing over his naked skin, it ruffled the ends of his fur.

Slowly, he blinked against the wind, shaking himself free of snowflakes and stretching his legs experimentally. Harry turned his upper body, smelling the pine scent of the trees, watching Cho with his keen wolf eyes. She was impossibly still, her hot breath visible in the cold air.

He turned and made for the forest, silent and powerful, moving quickly through the trees.

\----

Harry blinked several times, yawning with his face half-buried in the pillow. He was warm and sore all over, but finally awake enough to notice that Cho was curled up in an armchair by the fireplace. It looked like she had Transfigured the normally wooden, straight-backed chair to be more comfortable. The remains of a fire were visible in the hearth, and a tray of sandwiches, a pitcher of pumpkin juice, and a vial of analgesic potion had been left on the bedside table for him.

Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards Cho. Normally after a transformation, he’d have to Apparate home on his own and try to sleep off any residual effects of the full moon. Once, he’d tried to come into the office the day after a transformation, but Robards had sent him directly home.

Locks of dark hair fell over Cho’s closed eyes, reminding Harry of how windswept and agile she looked on a broom. He reached over and poured a glass of pumpkin juice, drinking deeply as he eased himself out of bed and looked out the window. The world was enveloped in white, with thick flakes continuing to fall, reminding him of the Muggle snow globes that were filled with glitter. Quietly, he dug in his bag for a change of clothes, throwing on a T-shirt over his naked chest. In a shirt and boxers the room was warm enough but, now that his transformation was over and he was a mere wizard again, the idea of Cho seeing him like that made the back of his neck burn. What had she thought of him stripping off his clothes in the middle of a snowstorm?

Harry uncorked the vial of analgesic potion, swallowing a few gulps before sitting back on the edge of the bed.

“You’re awake.”

He looked up at the sound of Cho’s voice, scratchy and tinged with sleep.

“Did I wake you up?” Harry asked, raking his hand through his already messy hair.

She stretched and adjusted herself in the chair. “Don’t worry. I just dozed off.”

“How long was I asleep?” he asked.

“Most of the day,” Cho answered. “You had some bruises when you first came back. I put some salve on them so they should be healed by now.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Harry said, wondering if he’d really been so thoroughly asleep that he hadn’t noticed her applying medicine to his body.

She stood up, her full, wavy hair falling out of its braid. “Do you mind if I look at the bruise on your shoulder?”

“Not at all,” he replied, giving her room to join him at the edge of the bed. Harry remained still while Cho pulled back the neck of his T-shirt and peered at his shoulder blade.

“Here,” he offered, pulling the shirt over his head.

She rubbed the outline of the bruise with her fingers, making his stomach lurch with warmth. Gently, Cho spread more salve into his skin, tracing the edge of the bruise in slow circles. With her hands on his back, Harry was consciously aware of how close they were, and this time there wasn’t the convenient excuse of being nearly transformed to explain his actions. Nervousness tingled through his limbs and he found himself wishing that she would keep touching him.

Before Cho could pull away, Harry turned slightly, placing his hand on her knee. She was completely still. Their breathing was the only noise in the quiet bedroom, his hand lightly brushing her thigh while the air thickened around them.

“Come here,” Harry said. Cho edged closer to him and leaned in, brushing her lips against his. He reached up and tugged on the band that had been holding her braid together, freeing her hair and running his fingers through it as she pressed her mouth fully against his own.

They sat on the edge of the bed like that, kissing, his arms circling around her waist to pull her closer. The fabric of Cho’s jumper scratched against his naked skin, a contrast that made him shiver and pull her lower lip between his teeth. His thumb grazed over the gap of skin above the waistband of her jeans while she tugged on his hair, lightly dragging her nails over his scalp.

Harry kissed her neck, smelling her hair and her skin and feeling dizzy from it. Her small hands slid over his chest and shoulders, making his skin feel hot, burning a trail of sensation across his chest. Cho placed her hand on his shoulder, easing them both backwards so she was straddling him. Her hair formed a dark curtain around their faces until Harry began to inch her jumper upwards, his hands brushing the underside of her breasts. She leaned away and pulled the garment over her head to reveal a pale pink bra with a tiny, fabric rose sewn between the cups.

He traced a finger between her breasts, amazed at how beautiful she was. They were both breathing loudly and, in just his cotton boxers, Harry was sure that she knew how aroused he was.

Cho unbuttoned her jeans but froze before undoing the zipper, her bottom lip between her teeth. It was one of the sexiest things he’d seen in a long time and Harry couldn’t help but lean forwards to kiss her. She pressed her cheek against his and they stayed like that for a moment, both of them holding each other, knowing that this was not the way romances were supposed to happen. Adults did not sleep with their girlfriends from school after years with no contact.

“Do you want to?” Cho asked, cupping his jaw.

Harry kissed her shoulder, his body urging him yes, yes, yes.

He reached down and unzipped her jeans. The sound was deafening, sticking in his ears and making his hands shake with want. She leaned off him for a moment, sliding the denim down her long, perfect legs while he reached for the clasp at her back to unhook her bra. Cho tucked herself against him as Harry turned to his side, kneading her breast with his hand, her eyes closing as his thumb circled her dark nipple.

Arching against his touch, she reached a hand down underneath her knickers, rubbing between her legs while he kissed her neck.

“I want to look at you,” Harry said, dragging her knickers past her hips to reveal a neat triangle of dark hair.

He dipped his head and began to kiss her breasts, circling her nipple with his tongue. Cho reached between their bodies and cupped him through his boxers, making him groan against her skin. She traced his length through the fabric of his pants, following the line of hair that led beneath his waistband with her fingers before lightly brushing the head of his cock.

Harry worked off the last of his clothes, both of them finally naked. The feeling of her wetness against his leg was almost more than he could stand, smelling sweet and musky all at once, hot against his fingers as he circled her clit.

Shifting onto his back, he rolled Cho on top of him, mesmerized by how perfect she looked naked and spread over his body. Harry blindly reached for his wand on the bedside table, cursing himself for not casting the spell sooner. He was aroused to the point of distraction and the words to the contraception spell felt muddled in his head.

“Contraceptus,” he said, both of them feeling a brief tingle over their skin.

Cho eased herself down on him just as the spell faded, slowly parting herself around his cock while he firmly held her hips. She quietly moaned his name but Harry was too enveloped in sensation to notice, loving how tight she was, rolling his hips against hers experimentally. They started out slow, with one of his hands cupping her breast while she circled her hips.

Each sensation was so intense, dragging through his limbs and threatening to pull an orgasm out of him before he was ready. Harry rocked up against her, feeling between their bodies for her clit while she rode him. Cho came quickly after that, making a high, breathy sound while he firmly circled her nub, her muscles tightening around him until his need was almost painful.

Harry wanted to keep going, could only imagine how perfect it would feel to be between her legs with Cho on her stomach, rocking into her from behind. He tried to hold himself in, surely leaving deep impressions on her hips from how strongly he held her. It worked until she leaned forwards and purposefully tightened around him, biting at his earlobe while she quickened her pace, drawing an orgasm out of him that made the muscles in his stomach tense.

Cho stroked his hair, kissing his jaw while the tips of her hair dragged over his chest. He rubbed his hands over her back, both of them breathing deeply, wrapped up in each other’s bodies. Satisfied, Harry ran his fingers through her hair and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent all around him.

\----

The next morning was cold and gray, but Harry woke feeling better than he had all week. The lunar cycle had officially transitioned and he would be arriving at work later in the day with information that would be useful for the Ministry. Cho had given him a lot of research that he could use in his report for Robards, though the official product of his stay at Conorwood was the least of Harry’s worries.

All of his things were packed. After waking up together, Cho had lured him into the shower and they’d spent nearly an hour underneath the spray of the water, each minute making it harder for him to leave as he’d been instructed. They hadn’t discussed anything in the future beyond the next ten minutes, making him wonder if sleeping with her had been a good idea, or if she was already relieved that he would be leaving shortly.

Harry had time for a quick cup of tea before Apparating to the ministry, but the normally soothing liquid did little to make his morning easier. Cho saw him to the entrance of the cottage, lovely even in her usual clothes without a speck of makeup. With his cloak buttoned and his bag over his shoulder, they stood in the foyer.

“I suppose I’ll see you next month. For the full moon,” Cho said, her hair tucked behind her ears.

“Definitely,” Harry replied. “Or sooner, if you’d like.”

A true, wide smile came over her features. One of the prettiest he’d ever seen.

“Yes. Yes, I would.”

Fin.


End file.
